Mentality
by TavernLuv
Summary: semi-AU. Where Arthur had to handle someone who believes that he was a nation. like that could ever happen.
1. PROLOGUE

I do not own Hetalia and the illnesses are mostly made up and do correct me for grammar and terminology errors.

PROLOGUE

x--x

Arthur Kirkland is a renown psychiatrist that dealt different and difficult tasks like Stockholm syndrome, bipolar disorder, dyslexia and even more; he most favored field was Behavioral Neurology.

But apparently, he started to loath it now.

His newest addition to his patient list was at first glance should not have been admitted at the first place to a mental asylum; _this person_ could speak straight and fluent English and (much preferred by the certain _patient_) French, good physical condition and had never suffered any trauma nor any terrible syndromes.

With all this sort of normalcy the French already attained, why was he even admitted _here_?

It was a troubling question that seemingly answered by the previous tests that shows the true colors of this peculiarly normal nutcase.

Arthur stared at the some of the results that seem to blurt out that this man was suffering from a new epidemic that seems to spreading like wild fire across the globe; although this would be his first time to deal with it.

Nation-belief syndrome.

A behavioral problem that mainly focuses on the suffering victim believes he had once lived as a Nation and was reborn as a human.

"Bloody hell…"


	2. Chapter 1

He sighed; deeply aggravated by the stubborn _idiot_ he was dealing with. Not only did the young man in question was being redundant, he also had that annoying look in his eyes.

No, he was not going to elaborate on such minor details.

He scoffed again trying to regain the patient's attention from the wooden door that would be the only exit. The British psychiatrist was at least glad that the _idiot _quickly returned his focus on him, without that annoying look he was giving earlier.

"Francis, I hope you are actually ready for our session." 'Because I really shouldn't be wasting my bloody time with an idiot' Arthur mentally added.

The patient merely gave a short chuckle. "Of course, _mon __Angleterre_ I'm---"

"You may **only** call me _Dr. Kirkland_." He quickly cut off the French man's sentence with a visible scowl on his features. Arthur oddly managed not to curse out loud for it was in protocol.

But the patient wasn't all that threatened or listening at the moment and simply laughed at the Psychiatrist. "So you prefer your _human_ name to be used. Do not fret _mon cher_, I'll listen."The French frog simply smiled innocently.

"I simply _prefer_ my name." The British psychiatrist simply twitched at the smile directed at him; how much he already _hates_ that expression.

Before the patient could even utter another word, Arthur quickly started his bombardment of questions. Hopefully he could still have time for tea rather than waste them with this wanker.

x—x

He was not alone! Honestly France was utter glad that he was not the only nation that had reborn towards being perfectly human; Yes he was perfect mind you. But alas this was non other than the stubborn nation he always had fought battles with or simply disagreed.

This was the _United__Kingdom_ of Great Britain and Northern Ireland

Or simply England. Angleterre is a much preferred term by France (Well his language was the best of all, especially being the nation of _L'amour_).

Something was terribly wrong at the moment. Why couldn't England remember who he is and forcing him to actually use his rather endearing human name. It seems as though he was still alone, misjudged by people that surrounds him, even by a fellow nation.

But that never deterred France before.

After that long _session_ that he obvious did not enjoy, France simply unwinds on his soft white bed surrounded by white washed walls. It wouldn't be surprising if anyone would have gone beyond insane because of the lack in taste of fashion and beauty.

Although the assisting staff of women was quite a remarkable sight.

He was almost succumb to sleep at the vivid mental image until he heard a light knock on his door. A young nurse had appeared with a shy smile with an oh so adorable uniform! But that lovely image was distorted by a man behind her with notable sourcils.

"I must be one _lucky_ man to be visited by you, _non_?" France slowly sat up staring at the nurse (probably around her 20's) as she does her job; although he could feel a familiar death glare on his back. _Angleterre _never had changed that much.

Now that he realized it, has not changed at all! The only difference of England of now from before was the eyewear.

And for some odd reason he could feel a dozen curses and swears running faster than a bullet train aimed towards him.


End file.
